Hailing a New Age
by superfriendz
Summary: "Out of the shadows, into the light." As soon as this message was released, the world changed. For Frostwing and the other agents of S.H.I.E.L.D, it means facing authorities, going on the run, and facing HYDRA. But can the agents protect the world when they're wanted in almost every country?
1. Chapter 1

I don't own S.H.I.E.L.D, Avengers, or any characters mentioned. Marvel is the property of Disney, and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter 1

A high-pitched ringing and the sound of her head pounding echoed in Agent Frostwing's ear. Everything had happened so fast, no one had time to react. She attempted to open her eyes, now caked with blood streaming from her forehead. Awkwardly moving her stiff arms around to feel her surroundings, the agent's muscles seized up in pain.A broken or fractured right radius, most likely was the cause. Pressing through the ache, Frostwing kept her right arm resting, and began an assessment with her left.

Feeling along the ground beside her, a large slap of concrete to her right. Frostwing gracelessly rolled over from her back to her knees. Another jolt of pain shot through her chest, indicating a few broken ribs. She spat out a mixture of dirt and blood, then spat again into her left hand, and rubbed her eyes as an attempt to get the blood out. _I've done more humiliating things in my life,_ Frostwing thought to herself. _Rubbing my eyes with spit comes nowhere near close._ With her eyes now cleared, she opened them stiffly and let her pupils dilate to adjust to her new environment, which was a lot brighter than the lab she was formerly standing in. Using her free hand she raised herself up against the lump of building beside her and analyzed the damage.

The Triskelion had fallen. A massive hole in the wall where the lab she had been "assigned to" once stood gave a clear view of Washington D.C. As Project Insight had taken off, she immediately began clearing out all other S.H.I.E.L.D agents in the area. Steve had a plan, and she trusted it with her life. Nat hadn't told her details, but she trusted the system. Frostwing had been clearing out the last few labs and vaults on the surrounding floors when the last helicarrier had crashed into the opposite side of the building.

Agent Frostwing scanned the area for any fellow agents who weren't HYDRA. So far as she could tell she was the only one on this floor. Frostwing looked down at her lab coat. She tore off the level three clearance badge and snorted.

"Hump, Veronica Mattelon my ass," she muttered as she tossed it away. Awkwardly taking off her coat, she lay it across the concrete she was leaning on and began cutting it into strips. Working quickly, she began wrapping up her wrist and head. It wasn't the best medical job ever, but it would get the job done.

As she finished wrapping her wrist, Frost stared wistfully at her dented communicator. Bringing up her hand to her ear, Frostwing checked her com for any sign of her superiors or fellow agents.

"This is S.H.I.E.L.D agent F27-3 reporting from Triskelion, does anyone copy? I repeat this is agent F27-3, please respond." Static was all she received as a response. After three more attempts, Frostwing ripped communicator out of her ear she threw it onto the ground. She took a deep breath and began staggering away from the boulder to look for other agents, anyone familiar, friendly, not HYDRA.

Limping around the debris, Frostwing's began to call for S.H.I.E.L.D, the other scientists she'd been stationed with. Some of those low level agents might be book smart, but they sure could be stupid as oxen when it came to clearance and rules of evacuation. Many had attempted to rescue some data, schematics, anything they could transfer on a flash drive. It was hard though for her, to run around and act like a scientist while trying to get every one out. Frostwing though back to her training days, after The Compound. She had been trained by the best, literally. Nat was like a sister to her now, and she had told Frost of the plan. She had to stay undercover, no matter what.

She reached into her secret inner pocked and grabbed her level seven clearance card to scan for the stair case. With a soft beep, Frost pushed the door open but as soon as she did, she heard someone take a breath behind her.

"Don't even think about it Frost," a raspy voice muttered behind her as a gun clicked behind her head.

"That's Agent F27-3 to you Sir," Frostwing replied menacingly. And why should I listen to you, Agent Bryant?" Frostwing diligently straightened up her back despite the pain.

"How do you know me?" Oliver Bryant had been caught off guard. Frostwing turned around to face him, revealing her strikingly stern glare.

"You were in my team during the Raketa mission in Baghdad. I don't forget my team mates Agent Bryant," Frostwing coldly retorted. "I suppose that was quite a few years ago, and you've moved up the ranks, gained some higher clearance. So let's cut the small talk and get down to business," Frostwing swiftly pulled out her gun for an old fashion standoff. "Are, you, HYDRA?" Agent Bryant didn't flinch, and maintained eye contact. _He has to be working some angle, I can feel it, _She noted as he was trying to get a read on her.

"I'm S.H.I.E.L.D through and through."

"Oh and what do you give me," snorted Frostwing, "Your word? Because that means so much now! I was deep in cover. Slap a lab coat on me, some glasses, a facial modifier and a DNA dampener and no one could tell that I wasn't some level three scientist. How'd you know?"

"Your modifier fell off," he responded bluntly. "You're lucky. HYDRA probably thinks you're off in some remote location on some secret mission from Fury himself, not running through D.C without wings or ice. You can go anywhere, pass through the streets un-noticed. I know you want to get out of here, but you can't just fly off in a plane. The local authorities are at the base of the Triskelion, and I know Romanoff taught you how to play dumb."

"You know I can't do that. Not now. I need to get out of the country, go off the grid. I appreciate your concern Agent, but your services are not required. If you want to go to the authorities, that's your call. Why do you care anyways," Frostwing interrogated, lowering her gun. Bryant followed suit.

"You know you're one of the top agents around here. If not, then THE top. You can rival Romanoff, Barton, Hill and Rogers pretty damn well." He did have a small point, she was the best. She had beaten all of the top agents in combat, and she went solo on almost all missions now. If she wasn't solo, she was paired with Barton or Romanoff.

_Poor Clint, he must be worried about Natasha. _It was no secret that Agents Romanoff and Barton trusted each other more than anything.

"I trust your judgement, but I'm just saying, a lot of people are counting on you. Everyone knows about the mighty Frostwing who controls the snow and rides the wind. Fury protected you. He saw this storm coming, didn't he?"

"That's classified."

"Nothing is classified anymore," Bryant sighed, looking down. "It's all leaked."

"I know, Romanoff leaked every S.H.I.E.L.D file onto the web. The world knows everything now. All that we protected them from is mere clicks away, hell even a kid with some old 2004 laptop could find out what a level nine or ten officers knew. It's time we all disappear for a while."

"Agreed. I just don't think you're making the right move right now Agent F27-3."

"That isn't your call. You do things your way, and I'll do them mine. And if you see Agent Hand, tell her I'm sorry."

Bryant gave a gruff nod and turned away from the staircase. When he was around the corner, Frostwing pushed through the stairs and began running down towards the hangar bay as fast as she could. She tripped down multiple steps at a time, constantly stumbling. It certainly wasn't the best way to reach the hangar, but the elevators were out of the question.

It was much emptier than she had anticipated. Most agents had cleared the building before the helicarriers had crashed, but they should have started coming back in by now. It was hauntingly empty, event for an emergency staircase. A few minutes of stumbling more revealed that she had just been on too high of a floor. Once she reached the lower levels, she could hear Agents on the other side of the doors. She encountered a few in the staircase, but no one talked to her, but rather stared in awe. _Guess they've heard a few stories about me._

By the time she reached the ground floor, the building was a massive maze of confusion. The staircase was even fuller as Agents tried to go up to where ever their work space once stood. She pushed her way out of the stairs at the hangar floor, and pushed her way through a knot of agents. As she reached the entrance to the hangar, she heard someone call her name behind her. She turned around to see a scuffed up, scrawny little agent. He was most likely a rather new recruit.

"Awaiting orders ma'am," he said in a shaky voice. She felt her expression turn softer. These agents looked up to her. She was the highest level agent left at the Triskelion. She looked around the room for a moment and took a breath.

"Your orders are to not get killed. The authorities will be in here soon, military wants to clear us out. You can let them take you, or you can go off the grid," She turned around swiftly and began to keep going to the hangar.

"But we're agents of S.H.I.E.L.D!" The little agent behind her called. "We stand for something!"

"Stood agent, we stood for something. Not anymore. Strategic homeland intervention, enforcement and logistics division means nothing, because it now also means HYDRA. As soon as the message 'Out of the darkness into the light' went out, the world changed. The Triskelion hasn't been taken over however. So feel free to stay. We are now humanities last hope. I know my role in serving it, it's time for all of you to find yours."

With that, Frostwing kept walking into the hangar, and inspected the vehicles that were left. Not much remained; most was blown up, dented, or flat out gone. Some agents were running around, trying to secure a ride themselves. There were a few armoured trucks, a helicopter, and luckily, a small plane. _Well, I suppose this is as good as anything_. She hastily walked across the hangar to her new ride, and noticed a group of agents had begun following behind her. About half way through the hangar, they dispersed to various posts. A few went to the control booth; others grabbed the traffickers and began signalling that a vehicle was going to take off. As she reached the plane, Frost pried open the cockpit and flopped in, protecting her wrist. The hangar door slowly moved open; it was a miracle it was even working.

Flipping switches and pulling levers, Frostwing began lift off, bringing the plane out vertically of the hangar. She nodded to the agents who opened the bay door for her, as a sign of gratitude. As she came out into the sunlight, her mouth fell open at the sheer amount of destruction that had been caused. It was far worse than she had anticipated, the bridges were destroyed, and the helicarrier had done a lot more damage than she thought. Fire trucks were battling a blaze on a bridge, and police and ambulance workers had begun attempting to enter the building to get injured agents out, and possibly arrest a few. Continuing upwards, she went straight up until the Triskelion below was no more than a speck. She flipped a few levers and the plane's powerful engines rotated, sending her shooting forward through the sky.


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own S.H.I.E.L.D, Avengers, or any characters mentioned. Marvel is the property of Disney, and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter 2

Frostwing stumbled through the soft grassy field towards the surrounding forest, adjusting her pack on her shoulder. She glanced back at the plane sitting in the clearing, and began wondering about what the government would do when they found it. She had gutted the plane pretty nicely, getting rations, a few weapons, and some medical tools. It was standard for all S.H.I.E.L.D vehicles to be equipped with rations, weapons, and communicators in case of emergency; however the communicators wouldn't serve much purpose except weighing her down. She had called in some favors on-route, and managed to get a Canadian passport and a few pieces of ID from a contact in the small town near the Quebec/Ontario border about five kilometers out of where she had landed. As she reached the edge of the trees, she heard the familiar blast of a small bomb, and felt the shock of the blast. The government wasn't going to get much out of it now.

_I suppose I'm going to have to get new clothes. I'm starting to get really sick of blouses and skirts. Plus, this shirt has the S.H.I.E.L.D crest on the shoulder. _She ducked behind a tree and slung off her pack. Tearing through it, she found a moderate sized knife, and began cutting off the S.H.I.E.L.D patch, and some of the surrounding area. She might look like a business woman, but at least she wasn't announcing to the world that she was S.H.I.E.L.D. Digging around again she found a lighter. She brushed away dry twigs and pine needles and made a small fire burning the fabric. She was grateful for once to not be in uniform, given the fact that standard S.H.I.E.L.D uniform is flame resistant. When the material was no more than embers, she dug a small hole a buried the remains, picked up her pack, and continued her journey towards the town.

After around five minutes of wandering around, she found a little path through the trees. It wasn't very well kept, with fallen logs and rotting bridges. Gnarled roots stuck up at odd angles, making her lose her already unsteady footing. Of course, her high heels weren't helping much either. At one point, she came to rather large stream, about four meters wide. Where the other streams had had small, rotting bridges, this one had no bridge at all. She took a minute to inspect the depth and speed of the current.

_I've survived much worse,_ Frostwing felt uneasy despite trying to convince herself otherwise. She was use to the cold, hell, she was made for it, but when she had her DNA dampener on, things worked differently. She usually had a phenomenal tolerance for the cold, but the DNA dampener made her have a higher than normal freezing point. She took off her heels, put them in her pack, and secured her pack tightly on her back. Lowering herself into the water, she immediately regretted her decision.

_Why does it have to be so cold_, she thought, feeling rather terrified. Her feet were already extremely numb, and her exposed legs didn't help much either. She put her arms out for balance as her feet fought to grip the slippery, cold rocks in the swift current. Digging one foot ahead of the other, she tried to move as fast as possible towards the other bank. As soon as she was close enough, she reached up towards a root growing over the stream and pulled herself out of the water.

Leaning against the tree, Frost began shaking and goose bumps covered her body. Taking off her pack, she took out her shoes and put them back on. At least they were dry. Using the tree to help her get up, Frostwing kept moving along the trail. It had been hard for her to walk on the path earlier, and it was even harder now. She used the lower tree branches to keep herself steady.

Frost had grown weary, started questioning if she was headed in the right direction. She had only caught a glimpse of the town from her plane, and knew the general direction. However it was possible she had lost her sense of direction when she put too much trust in the trail. About half an hour later, her doubts were put to rest as the trees became a swampy marsh, and a speck of a town came into view. The trail went up to the edge of a small road leading into town. The little town reminded her of one at The Compound, that they had built to train Project Guard in. She didn't know for sure if she could be called Canadian, but she was Canadian engineering at its finest. As she crossed the tiny iron bridge into the town, she slung her pack onto the ground and began searching through for her phone.

She went to the notes section of her phone, and found the address of her contact. A five minute walk revealed the small street that she was looking for. Halfway down the street, she saw the address bolted onto the faded walls. She took a shaky breath, partly out of fear of who owned the house, and partly because she was cold. She ascended the steps and gave three confident knocks at the door. After ten seconds of waiting it swung cautiously open, revealing the chubby face of a short, stocky figure.

"Oh my god," the man whispered softly. Frostwing suddenly got colder and began shaking more. She pulled herself up and tried to compose herself as she walked into the living room of the man's house. "Edna, please get our guest a change of clothes," he called into the kitchen, where an old woman was working on a stew. She dashed off into another room, coming back shortly with a towel and fresh clothes.

"Come on dear, they might be a bit big. The bathroom is this way, have a shower. I'll get the medical kit ready, oh and we'll have some fresh stew, come come now," the old woman fretted.

Frostwing felt rejuvenated and warm once again. She was still exhausted, but at least she felt comfortable. As she slumped on the jacket she had been given, she looked at her reflection. The jeans fit her, and were most certainly her style. A simple long sleeve black shirt and the red and black plad jacket made her feel like some logger. She would most likely get steel toe workers boots to complete the look too. The wool socks may have been a tad bit itchy, but there was no denying their warmth. Her long black hair was pulled up in a pony tail, and she let her side bang fall down the side of her face. She instantly fell in love with the jacket however. It was incredibly thick and had deep pockets on both the inside and the out. As she came out of the bathroom, Edna came running around the corner, sewing needle, thread, and some bandages in hand.

"I hope you don't mind dear, but I took the liberty of moving your bags into the spare room, and I'm going to get you all patched up alright?" She went on energetically. The woman lead Frost down the hall to a small bed room, where her pack sat at the foot of the bed. Medical tools were scattered on the sheets, and Edna prepared for their guest's injuries. "Let's get your head dealt with first ok? You must be so tired after all that's been going on, I saw it on the news! Why, I don't see how you kids can do it, take a hit and then keep going. Then again, my husband didn't design you for nothing now did he?" Frostwing cringed as Edna sewed up her skin. She never had been a huge fan of stitches. The old woman just kept talking though, about how proud her husband must be, and how tired she was, and how awful she looked. Edna might have been proud of her husband, but Frost despised him.

"Got your head, but you hurt your arm too didn't you. I've got a splint for that too," she grinned, near toothlessly.

"Thank you for your help," Frostwing had to at least attempt to be nice to the woman. It wasn't fair of Frost to blame her for her husband's mistakes.

"Oh, I'm sure you've done the same for many heroes before," somehow her grin got wider. "Ok all done now, you'll be right as rain soon," Edna got up and lead Frostwing to the kitchen, where her husband had already started eating the stew.

Sitting down at the table, Frostwing didn't touch the stew, despite her hunger. She simply stared at him. He was so old now, frail, and his eyes were sunken. She was sitting across the table from Douglas Sherman, the man who had designed her, trained her, and tortured her. She had been a living weapon thanks to this man and his team, and now she was expected to eat food from him. He stopped eating mid bite, put down his spoon, and stared right back at her.

"What was Project Guard?"

"Really F27-3? We're doing that now. Eat your dinner," the old man said with as much authority as he had back in the day.

"For whatever reason, my contact gave you as my safe house. I'm to get some documents from you, and then I'll be gone. But I believe we have some personal matters left to discuss, Doug," Frostwing uttered in the most emotionless way possible.

"Eat first, talk later," Douglas replied, picking up his spoon and taking another bite.

"I don't take orders from you."

"Then starve."

The stew did look awfully good. Reluctantly, Frost gave in and wolfed down her stew, even asking for seconds.

"Well isn't this nice?" Edna tried making conversation. Frostwing and Douglas didn't look up. When their meals were finished, Douglas told her to move to the living room.

"I'll just be in the kitchen if you need anything," Edna called. Frost sat in a small faded couch, looking opposite to a TV that looked equally as old with a build in VCR. The seven o'clock news just came on.

"All I want to know is why? Why did Project Guard exist? What the compound was built for?" Frost demanded. The old man was far from his prime, and his joints and organs were failing him. His pale eyes looked from across the room to her dark blue ones.

"I knew you'd come eventually, though I never imagined under such circumstances. I owe you the truth at the very least," he let out a sigh and reached for the bottle of whiskey on the side table. "Project Guard was funded by a large company in the States, they wanted soldiers. But that isn't out of the ordinary of course. It was this sort of phase the world went through after Captain America. Everyone wanted a super soldier to fight for their cause. So we built The Compound in the Northwest Territories, and began testing certain mutations. The company was, unique to say the least, in their request for the super soldiers. They wanted guards at their facilities up north, to circle over head live vultures, neutralize aircrafts, and to withstand freezing temperatures. They were designed to thrive in the harsh nights of the north."

"Wait, what were the facilities for?"

"No idea, I never knew the company. I just know that they hand selected the team to engineer the soldiers, and made Dr. Stamgar the project head. My job was to genetically modify human DNA to survive sub-zero temperatures, other researchers had to make the soldiers fly. Our first fourteen models failed, dying almost as soon as they were able to be called proper humans. After that however, we had much greater success. Patients survived, and began to grow feathers. We assisted evolution, and soon, we created the perfect soldiers with the sixteenth model. We produced ten of model sixteen for the company.

"Then, other powerful figures and companies started to notice us. We got more funding, and different requests. Model seventeen had better tail feathers, eighteens were a bit stronger, nineteens got feathers around the tail feathers on their ankles. Each model got better and better. Model Twenty three was able to regulate their body temperature so they could also be used in warm regions. Twenty four had wings modeled after a falcon's. Each upgrade was passed down to the next model, and each model got added features.

"Just as we had begun producing the twenty seventh model, the Canadian Government found out. They understood that we were a force to be reckoned with and asked S.H.I.E.L.D for help. However, we managed to create three model twenty sevens, you being the third, and final subject created from Project Guard."

"And I know the rest of the story from there," she muttered, looking at her folded hands.

"Yup, that you do. S.H.I.E.L.D shut us down, 27-1 and 27-2 turned against each other, killing one another, the others were buried in the north along with the company's facility, and you went to S.H.I.E.L.D. Lucky you, EH?" Frostwing looked uncomfortably out the window at the trees growing in the front yard.

"Just give me my paperwork and I'm out of here, ok?" Frostwing glanced behind her briefly, but then the TV caught the corner of her eye. The big headline was about S.H.I.E.L.D. With a jolt, Frost jumped over to the TV and turned up the volume.

"-great organization has fallen far from grace, and many question whether it has been repressing us, or protecting us. We now go to Washington D.C." The screen cut to Agent Romanoff taking an oath to tell the truth in front of a large group of government officials.

"Tell the truth my ass," Frost teased, despite the fact Nat couldn't hear her. She watched intently as Romanoff handled herself with as much grace as she always did. She deflected accusations against S.H.I.E.L.D, and attempted to make a point of HYDRA. She eventually got bored with the entire situation, standing up and leaving. The reporters and officials looked furious, but it would take a lot more than that to make Agent Romanoff falter. Frost shook her head to herself and smirked.

She stood up promptly and swiftly made her way to the spare room, grabbing her pack, which was still damp.

"No no dear, don't take that one. Here, I'll get you something new to put your things in," Edna ran off to some other room. She came scuffling back with a small "Vancouver 2010 Olympics" backpack.

_Really? This is what my contact sends them. Better than nothing_

"The documents and money are in here, ok?" Edna said with a serious voice, patting the pack. She made a hasty retreat out of the room, and Frostwing turned her focus back to the bag.

Frost took out the brown envelope and flipped through. There was a drivers licence, passport, social security card and a birth certificate, all made out to Amelia Fletcher.

_At least it's better than 'Veronica Mattelon.'_ Another envelope boasted a healthy twenty thousand Canadian dollars. The pack also had car keys, a wallet with a bank card, and a sticky note with what she assumed was the bank card's pin number. Opening the old S.H.I.E.L.D pack, she moved some food, a medical kit, and her phone to the new one. She looked sadly at the guns and knives sitting in the old pack. When she found a place to settle down, then she'd get some nice weapons.

She put on the new pack and walked to the front of the house. Edna was waiting for her with a pair of steel toe boots.

_Just as I expected_ She tied up the laces and turned around to face the Shermans.

"Thank you for everything Edna, your stew was delicious," Frostwing smiled warmly as she twirled the car keys on her finger. She walked outside and found they belonged to an old, slightly beat up, red Ford pickup. It was a smaller truck, and the seats were new, which would make for a comfortable ride.

Frost threw the pack into the passenger seat and started the engine. The sun's last light was peaking over the horizon, and her radio was blaring. For the first time in Frostwing's life, she felt like a normal human, going on a road trip in a truck.

She crossed the bridge and looked over towards the forest. A few kilometers down the road revealed a small dirt path into the park, taped up by the Police who were most likely admiring her gift to them. Driving south towards the capital, she began to draw up a game plan in her head. She had to think up a story, build a cover, and lay low. Suddenly, her whole body shook with a terrible yawn.

_Sleep soon, plan later_ Frost grinned to herself. A road sign stated that she was twenty kilometers out from the nearest town. She flicked off the radio, getting annoyed with the music, and drove down the road in silence. Her headlights were dim and flickered sometimes. _If there is a mechanics shop in the next town, then I'm taking this truck there for some TLC_. After three more minutes of driving, the road became lined with street lights. Five minutes later, Frost drove past a gas station, and then a produce market, and a bookstore. Not wanting to go straight through the town, she turned at the only traffic light in town, assuming that it meant that was the largest corner, therefore the center of town. A minuet down the road she saw a big florescent sign that read "Motel, vacancy"

Pulling into the parking lot, Frost found a spot right next to the reception. Picking up her bag and locking the truck, Frost walked into the dirty looking building and smiled kindly at the man behind the desk, who's name tag read 'Darrel'

"Oh my! Hello how are you this evening?" He said in a surprised tone.

"I'm fine thank you. Tired though. I just need a small room ok?"

"Yes sure, of course, for just tonight?"

"Yea."

"Ok, that's twenty five dollars thank you." Frostwing fished through the envelope of money as discreetly as possible looking for a hundred dollar bill. She finally found one and handed it to Darrel.

"You like cash? Don't trust the banks do you? It's not safe travelling with a lot of money you know, people can do some pretty twisted things."

"I'm well aware. Thank you for your concern," Frostwing mumbled, taking the key from Darrel. She grimly walked out of the reception hall and started looking for her room number. When she found room nineteen, she let out a sigh of relief. Putting her pack on the floor beside her, she crawled into bed, jacket and all, with the money envelope and her documents in her inner jacket pockets for safe keeping. _I'm going to have to get some more clothes. I hope this town has a thrift shop_. Frost was too tired to worry though, and fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

Author's Note: I hope you're all enjoying the story, please leave a review I lots of plans for the story, so please stay tuned for more.


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